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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28262751">KFC &amp; You &amp; Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coshledak/pseuds/Coshledak'>Coshledak</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempt at Humor, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Holidays, Humorous Ending, Implied Relationships, Loneliness, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, Secret Santa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:28:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,056</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28262751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coshledak/pseuds/Coshledak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-canon. Post high-school AU.</p>
<p>Takao had always thought about how they'd move in together after high school. He had thought about how they would celebrate their holidays between their two families while finding time for establishing their own traditions. And of course he had hoped that Midorima would be accepted to his top-pick medical school in Germany. He just hadn't realized that would mean he'd have to live there and leave him behind.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Part of the KNBSecretSanta2020!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Midorima Shintarou/Takao Kazunari</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>KFC &amp; You &amp; Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My part of the KNB secret santa exchange for @mooniedoesart/@mooniejoon9294! Happy Holidays, and I hope you like it. :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The warmth of the apartment is a welcome wash across Takao’s face when he enters it. The hallways and lobby of his building always seem to carry more of the outside air than the inside air despite, in his estimation, being more inside than outside. But who knows? Maybe the hallways and lobby know something he doesn’t, and that’s why he doesn’t get the taste of genuine warm air until he’s safely inside his own one-bedroom apartment.</p>
<p>“I’m home~” he calls to the empty air, earning no response, of course. Takao ignores it, both the quiet and the slight pang in his chest.</p>
<p>He puts his bag down and sets about the task of taking off his winter boots. He makes sure to keep them over the door mat so that the snow holding onto them doesn’t spread and create puddles for him to find with his socks later. Satisfied that he does a pretty good job of it, he scoops his bag up and carries it to the kitchen to start unpacking. He’s just gotten the last of the week’s groceries put away when his phone goes off. He flops onto the couch as he takes the call.</p>
<p>“Shin-chan!” He chirps, listening to his partner yawn on the other end. The smile on his face feels like it fits a bit better to hear him, rolling onto his side and cradling the phone against his cheek. “Good morning.”</p>
<p>“Morning,” Midorima murmurs. </p>
<p>“Did you sleep alright?” Takao asks, not out of concern but as a warm-up for conversation. “You sound grouchy.”</p>
<p>“You always say I sound that way in the morning.” </p>
<p>Takao hears the rustling of fabric, the shift of a bed, or a person on a bed, he thinks, and thanks Midorima’s phone for having such a good microphone. Hearing his voice is wonderful, soothing the gentle ache in his chest, but there are so many other details that he finds himself missing.</p>
<p>“You always do,” Takao replies. “Even so close to the holidays. Not that it stopped you before.” He laughs, but he tells himself it doesn’t feel forced. “You sound that way even on Christmas morning, I bet.”</p>
<p>“Christmas morning isn’t so different from other mornings,” Midorima mutters, the early-morning tired bringing about some soft and disgruntled confusion. “I don’t know why I would sound any different then.”</p>
<p>“Because it’s Christmas! Gifts and friends and KFC! What’s not to like?”</p>
<p>Midorima isn’t exactly <i>not</i> a morning person. He’s more of a morning person than Takao is, but neither one of them really struggles with mornings. Of course, that does depend on when the morning starts, Takao supposes. A quick glance at his wristwatch reveals the time to be a little after noon, steadily making its way towards twelve-thirty. That means for Midorima it’s about…four am. </p>
<p>That explains why he’s quiet as Takao talks about Christmas, about the snow, and about Tokyo. He talks about his family’s plans, his friend’s plans, and not about his empty planner or empty apartment. He has a way of speaking, he thinks, that glides over those little details, makes them almost impossible to notice against the broad strokes of his picture. People around him have plans, and if he talks about them excitedly enough, and if Shin-chan is sleepy enough, then they sound like they’re his plans.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know why he doesn’t have plans. He <i>should</i> have plans. It’s not that he hasn’t been invited. His family had, of course, told him to come home if he didn’t have anything else to do. He plans on visiting them soon, anyway, but he turned them down for Christmas Eve. Kise had also invited him to some holiday party as his plus one, something for his modeling agency, but Takao had said no.</p>
<p>Why had he said no? He didn’t—he doesn’t—have anything better to do except sit at home. In his warm, empty apartment. Why had he said no?</p>
<p>“Kazunari.”</p>
<p>“What—?” His voice bumps awkwardly against the walls of his throat and something breaks a little bit, making the word come out slightly strangled. He rolls onto his back and rubs at one stinging eye. He makes himself laugh. “Did I say something weird?”</p>
<p>Midorima doesn’t answer right away, leaving Takao with an extended pause in which he can do nothing but listen to his own heartbeat. When he does finally answer, his tone is a little slow and drawn out.</p>
<p>“No,” he answers. Another pause. More slow, thumping heartbeats. “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>Takao’s expression and voice soften a little. He curls up on his side a bit more, tugging a pillow closer to rest his arm over it. “Hey, Shin-chan. This isn’t too early for you, is it? You won’t be tired for later?”</p>
<p>Midorima is quiet for a beat.</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine,” he answers. “It’s good practice, anyway. For the future. Doctors often work odd hours.”</p>
<p>“What time did you go to sleep?”</p>
<p>“You’re avoiding the question, Kazunari,” Midorima replies, a cut of seriousness to his voice. </p>
<p>Takao should probably be worried, insistent that he’s fine, but honestly the weight of Midorima’s tone is reassuring more than scary. He’s never found him scary, not as a person, not since he got to know what a disaster was under all that aloof distance and terrifying talent from middle school. Now he knows how unapologetically weird Midorima is, and he can’t imagine finding something as harmless as a tone change to be worrisome.</p>
<p>He shakes his head a little, even if Midorima can’t see it.</p>
<p>“It’s nothing, Shin-chan,” he says, smiling. He squeezes the pillow in his arms, trying to smother the pain in his chest. “You should get ready for the day. Your lucky item is…”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>—</p>
</div>“Takacchi!” Kise cries, throwing an arm around his shoulder as he comes up behind him. “There you are!”<p>Takao laughs. “What do you mean ‘here I am?’ You’re the one running late.”</p>
<p>“Ah, only a little bit,” Kise says, waving a hand. “Sorry. The platform was really crowded on the way off the train, and I wanted to pick this up!”</p>
<p>Takao doesn’t have to look to know that Kise has produced his latest magazine, but he does. It wouldn’t be very nice not to and, unlike most of Kise’s friends, he thinks it’s pretty cool that he’s still modeling. It had turned into a full-blown career after high school, now that he had the free time and energy to dedicate to it. Well, aside from his photography classes.</p>
<p>Takao flips through it as they walk, letting Kise guide them along the crowds of holiday shoppers. He doesn’t bother reading it, because Kise doesn’t have an interview in this one, it’s just a magazine featuring some advertisements he was shot for. There’s a whole mini-shoot in here for some high-end watch company. Takao’s mind wanders, wondering if he should have gotten Midorima a watch for Christmas.</p>
<p>“Are you alright, Takacchi?” Kise asks, pulling them to a stop as they wait for light to change over.  Then he beams, his voice cheerful. “Is my shoot just so amazing that you’ve changed your mind about the holiday party?”</p>
<p>“What? Oh,” Takao chuckles, handing back the magazine. “No, but it does look really good. No wonder they used it three times in the same magazine.”</p>
<p>“It was four times,” Kise pouts, but he tucks the magazine back into his bag with raised brows. “Are you sure you’re alright, Takacchi?” As they start walking, his voice gets a little quieter, which isn’t the most opportune thing considering the bodies bumping and shuffling around them. “Is this about Midorimacchi?”</p>
<p>He had already filled Kise in over the phone, shortly after he’d hung up with Midorima. He didn’t know who else to call, really. Kise is always good for these kinds of conversations, he genuinely seems to like stuff dealing with relationships and all that. After the conversation, Takao figured that he had gotten it all out of his system. Unfortunately for his seniors at lunch the following day, he apparently hadn’t.</p>
<p>
  <i>“—and so I don’t want to tell him that anything is wrong because he’s so busy. It’s not his problem that I’m lonely,” Takao justified. “So I just didn’t say anything. And I don’t think that makes me a bad boyfriend. He’s not a bad boyfriend for going to Germany to study and I’m not a bad boyfriend for missing him.” He sighed, pushing his hand back through his hair. “At least, I think that’s how it works.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“…I just asked what kind of toppings you wanted,” Kimura replied, holding up the menu.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I told you this was going to happen,” Miyaji had said, his face already buried in his hands.</i>
</p>
<p>Still, it’s a little easier to let his guard down around Kise. He smiles a little. “I just miss him, is all. I always figured, after we graduated, we’d spend all the holidays together. But then he got accepted to the school in Frankfurt and—“ He’s talking himself in circles, he <i>knows</i> he is. This is nothing Kise doesn’t already know, and yet he can’t stop himself from saying it. </p>
<p>“I know, Takacchi,” Kise says, and the soft sympathy in his voice is still one of the most comforting things Takao knows. Right up there with the weight in Shin-chan’s voice and his mother’s hands combing through his hair. He has to fight down the swell of stinging heat in his eyes. “But are you <i>sure</i> you want to keep turning down plans? Even if you don’t come to the party, you could come over for a bit. On Christmas Eve!”</p>
<p>“Kise—“</p>
<p>“It’ll be great,” Kise insists, beaming at him. “We’ll do facial masks and hair treatments and watch some silly drama. Please? My family isn’t expecting me until Christmas day, anyway. You’d be keeping me company!”</p>
<p>In a silly way, knowing that it’s more about bringing comfort to someone else than to himself helps to make the idea more appealing. Normally he likes parties, likes being the buffer between other people and Midorima, too. That missing element just made the whole event seem daunting. A spa day with his best friend, though? He can do that.</p>
<p>“Alright,” he agrees. “But only if you have some of that really expensive moisturizer.”</p>
<p>“We’ll buy it right now!” Kise says, dragging him towards his preferred skincare shop.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>—</p>
</div>Kise’s party takes up the part of Christmas Eve Day. That’s mostly day and a little bit of eve. It’s about eight when Takao lets himself into Kise’s apartment, having gotten the key from him earlier that day. Snow had been falling all day, but the night sky outside is perfectly clear now, and, without the wind, the temperature is just cold enough to make standing on Kise’s balcony tolerable for a few minutes at a time.<p>It doesn’t take long for his host to join him, a bag of KFC in hand, and then they settle in. There’s a brief discussion about face masks before eating or after, with points being made for grease-on-clean-face vs crying-off-face-masks-as-the-drama-gets-good before they decide on the schedule of things. </p>
<p>Kise had already picked the perfect drama, he claimed. One that would make them both cry but wouldn’t hit too close to home. Takao thinks Kise is underestimating his own creativity for applying almost any sad situation to himself lately, but he appreciates the effort that his friend puts into the task. Sure enough, he <i>does</i> end up crying into his chicken, but he manages to keep from making the entire drama about his sore heart.</p>
<p>And, in a way, crying over the drama is cathartic. He hasn’t actually been crying over missing his boyfriend, just moping in an uncharacteristic way. A way that feels wrong in his skull and worse on his skin, but in a way that he hasn’t been able to help despite his best intentions. He thinks he exfoliates some of that sadness during the night, his mind feeling almost as fresh as his face and hair by the time 1am rolls around and Kise accompanies him home.</p>
<p>“Remind me again why you walked me home,” Takao asks, opening the front door to his building.</p>
<p>“In case you wanted to ask me to stay the night,” Kise explains, although the excuse feels a little flimsy. </p>
<p>“So why didn’t <i>you</i> just ask <i>me</i> to stay the night?” </p>
<p>Kise hesitates for a moment, long enough that Takao thinks he’s earned raising his eyebrow at him. </p>
<p>“Well, I—have to leave early,” Kise replies, his voice almost a little defiant. “For my family Christmas. And I couldn’t just leave you in my apartment without the key.” Takao opens his mouth, but Kise waves his hand. “Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you walk home alone?”</p>
<p>Takao balks, but the sound is mostly a laugh. “What kind of friend <i>am</i> I, then? Because you’ll have to walk home alone after walking me home!”</p>
<p>“Stop making things complicated!”</p>
<p>Kise playfully pushes them both towards the stairs. Given that Takao’s apartment is only up on the second floor, it doesn’t take them long at all to reach it. Without his Hawk Eye, Takao might not have noticed the slight look of confusion that passed across his friend’s face to hear the apartment door lock click open. He decides not to point it out, though, because Kise is mostly at an angle where asking about it suddenly would surprise him.</p>
<p>Besides, now he’s wondering what’s going on.</p>
<p>The apartment is dark when they step in, at least until he flicks on the lights, which demonstrates just how confused his friend’s face still is. </p>
<p>“I’m home~” He calls, as he always does, to the empty space. Takao’s barely got the door shut before Kise’s shoes are off and he’s heading further inside. “Kise?”</p>
<p>“Bathroom!” Kise calls back, the answer firing from his lips like a loaded crossbow.</p>
<p>By the time he returns, Takao has had time to stand in the middle of his own living room with his hands on his hips. He’s frowning, but it’s mostly to suppress the smile.</p>
<p>“Okay, what’s going on?”</p>
<p>Kise blinks at him, golden eyes wide in surprise that quickly morphs to innocence. “I—nothing!” He brings up his hands, waving them a little in a gesture of surrender. “Why would you think something is going on?”</p>
<p>Takao just looks him over, from head to toe, as if to say ‘because of all of everything about you.’ Kise pouts.</p>
<p>“What?” Kise whines, but Takao just continues to stare at him. It works better than speaking, he thinks, with Kise, because the quiet gets to him. They have that in common.</p>
<p>Finally, Kise relents, throwing his hands up. “Okay! We—I—“ A huff. “We all had a surprise gift for you! And I don’t know where it is. It should be here by now.”</p>
<p>Takao is not an idiot, but he does know what it’s like to get his hopes up. He does know what it’s like to think of an outcome, to visualize something he wants, only to have it snatched away. It’s because of that—because of losses just as well as victories on the court—that he tries to keep his heart from choking him out. He tries to keep his head from buzzing.</p>
<p>“Who’s we?” He asks, tiptoeing around the notion of a gift entirely.</p>
<p>Kise crosses his arms. “Aominicchi and Kagacchi and Kurokocchi and I.”</p>
<p>Takao’s stomach lurches. That’s a lot of people, a lot of involvement. Why all four of them? It’s not like they’ve all stayed that close with him since graduating high school, since they stopped seeing each other on the court. Oh, Takao still counts them as his friends, he still has lunch with a few o them sometimes, but mostly Kise catches him up on anything he’s  missing about Kagami and Kuroko. Aomine sometimes gets dragged to lunch—</p>
<p>God, his stomach hurts.</p>
<p>“What—what’s the gift?” He asks, and braces himself. </p>
<p>What he <i>wants</i> is a big ask, and he knows that. Maybe it’s not even a gift. Maybe they were all just coming over? To keep him company? Or—? No, that doesn’t make any sense. No way Aomine and Kagami would agree to that. Not without something competitive to do, and they can’t really go play basketball in the snow. Not that Takao thinks they wouldn’t try.</p>
<p>Kise clearly doesn’t <i>want</i> to tell him. He had wanted this to be a surprise, to be something to excitedly show him, and now it’s not where he expected it to be. And he doesn’t know where it is. He even pulls out his phone to check, swiping through messages and poking at his voice mail notifications.</p>
<p>“Kise,” Takao repeats. “What’s the gift?”</p>
<p>Takao puts his hand over his aching stomach, tells himself to be ready. Ready to smile and be thankful for whatever it is they put so much work into. Even if he doesn’t know what it is. Even if it isn’t here. He’ll smile. He’ll smile and thank them even if it isn’t what he wants—even if it isn’t—</p>
<p>“Well it…” He sighs, but it’s mostly a huff. “It’s <i>supposed</i> to be Midorimacchi…”</p>
<p>Takao gasps, softly.</p>
<p>“…but his flight landed at Narita an hour ago. They should have been here by now.”</p>
<p>At first, the words don’t connect to any form of meaning. All Takao’s brain can hold is the information that Midorima was—is—coming home. That his friends somehow arranged to surprise him with his boyfriend, like so many cheesy romcoms that he adores so much. It’s exactly the sort of fantasy that he’d come up with as padding around Midorima leaving, the idea of surprise holiday visits like this. But, being that this is their first year apart, neither of them has really managed to pull together the money for such a thing.</p>
<p>For a moment, all he can do is spin his wheels on that fact, on the fact that Midorima will be home with him. On Christmas Eve—well, early Christmas morning. Very early, in fact, as it’s slowly ticking closer to two am. </p>
<p>And in the space between those ticks, his brain begins to add in the new information, stirring the pot with the new, terrible spice.</p>
<p>“Wait—what do you mean—?” Takao asks, looking at Kise. “Where is he!?”</p>
<p>His mind floods with thoughts of what could have gone wrong between here and Germany. His plane crashed? His heart nearly suffocates him but no, no. Kise said his flight had landed, right? That meant he had to be in Japan. Anyone of the group could have texted him that. So then what? A car accident? He doesn’t even realize how many thoughts he’s cycled through before Kise is responding again, and he’s confused about it for the moment it takes him to realize he’s only answering his question.</p>
<p>“I don’t know!” Kise replies, not shouting at Takao but rather sharing the faint distress in his voice. “I got a text from them saying that they were close about twenty minutes ago, that the roads were a little rough and crowded, but I haven’t heard anything since.”</p>
<p>Takao starts to run towards the door and take out his phone at the same time. Midorima might not have texted him to avoid spoiling the surprise, but if he texts him first then he’ll know that Takao knows. And Midorima always replies promptly, unless he’s working, or—</p>
<p>The knock on the door makes both inhabitants of the apartment freeze. Part of Takao says to look outside for emergency lights, but the rest of him is screaming not to move. If he doesn’t move then all of this will be fine. He’ll have to live in a permanent state of not knowing if his boyfriend is dead or alive, sure, and he has to stand like a flamingo for the rest of his life. But at least then he’ll never have to deal with the possibility that something terrible has happened.</p>
<p>“Oi, Kise!” Aomine calls, knocking on the door again. Even though it’s one in the morning, his knocks sound more like bangs. </p>
<p>Takao lunges for the door, pulling it open. His throat tightens sharp enough to squeeze out the last of his breath.</p>
<p>Midorima looks, somehow, both annoyed and terrified. His hair is messed up, and he’s a little bit pale, and he’s clinging to his luggage. Not just holding the handle, but holding the whole luggage as if it were a cherished stuffed animal.</p>
<p>Or the last life raft drifting on the open sea.</p>
<p>“Shin-chan!” Takao throws his arms around him, which is awkward because of the luggage. Thankfully Midorima lowers it off to the side, wrapping an arm around him as Takao hides on his neck. “I thought you were dead!”</p>
<p>“I nearly was!” Midorima replies. Takao can feel him shooting a withering glare at some member of his entourage. “Kagami tried to kill us on the drive from the airport.”</p>
<p>“Hey!” Kagami barks. “I saved your life! I saved all our lives!”</p>
<p>“From an accident you nearly caused!” Midorima replies.</p>
<p>“He’s right,” Aomine speaks up, carrying all the fight of an argument that they’ve clearly had at least once in the car. “He’s right, and I <i>hate you</i> for making me agree with Midorima, of all people.”</p>
<p>“There’s nothing wrong with my driving!” Kagami insists. “You got a problem with it, you can take it up with the licensing bureau in LA.”</p>
<p>“How about I take it up with <i>you</i> in ‘This Hallway,’ right no—“</p>
<p>Both Kagami and Aomine yelp in sudden, abrupt pain. By the time Takao takes his teary face out of Shin-chan’s neck, Kagami is on his knees on the ground and Aomine is bracing one arm against the wall. Both of them are clutching their ribs on one side, and Kuroko hasn’t even lowered the two hands he used to jab them. When his eyes meet Takao’s, he nods.</p>
<p>“Sorry about the wait, and any worry that we may have caused you,” Kuroko says, softly. “We slid a little ways off the road, and it took some time to get back on track. Aomine’s phone died—“</p>
<p>“—I told you to charge that!—“ Kise calls.</p>
<p>“—shut up!” Aomine replies. “I almost died! Show some concern, dammit!”</p>
<p>“—and mine and Kagami’s weren’t getting any signal,” Kuroko continues, as if the other two aren’t bickering behind him now. “By the time they started getting signal, we figured we could just make up for lost time. We didn’t realize how late we were running.”</p>
<p>Takao wipes at his eyes, shaking his head a little. “Thanks for getting him home safely.”</p>
<p>Kuroko smiles, after a beat, and nods. “We’ll leave you two, then.”</p>
<p>And they do, though Takao is sure that he has earned the ire of his neighbors. He makes a mental note to write them all apology Christmas cards in the morning, as he pulls Midorima inside the apartment.</p>
<p>He hovers as Shin-chan starts to take off his coat—hanging it for him—and then his shoes. While he’s working on his shoes, Takao takes his luggage back to the bedroom, coming back out, talking as he walks.</p>
<p>“You know, Shin-chan, I wasn’t joking,” he says, approaching the doorway. “I really thought you died. I thought—”</p>
<p>But the words are whisked away from his lips by the soft pressure of a kiss, of a mouth on his own. Arms encircle his lower back, drawing him closer, and Takao rests his hands on Midorima’s shoulders, sliding them down to his chest. Despite his coat, his sweater is a little cool from outside. His nose is cold as it presses into Takao’s cheek when the kiss deepens, and Takao isn’t sure which one of them shudders, only that he feels the tremor between them.</p>
<p>Gradually, the kiss breaks, but Midorima’s arms stay around him and Takao doesn’t protest. He just opens his eyes—not sure when he closed them—and smiles up at Midorima’s green eyes. He reaches up to adjust his slightly cooked glasses, and kisses the corner of his mouth.</p>
<p>“Welcome home, Shin-chan,” he says.</p>
<p>“Merry Christmas, Kazunari,” Midorima replies, and Takao can feel each syllable vibrate from his chest into his palms. Real. Here. And home.</p>
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